


Phantom Pain

by MeridianPurified



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dwemer Ruins, Prosthesis, Thieves Guild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22601824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeridianPurified/pseuds/MeridianPurified
Summary: Juno explores a Dwemer Ruin with disastrous consequences...
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

The ruins crumbled and hissed around Juno, giving them a unique ambience she had never experienced before. She stepped over a long dead Dwemer spider as she made her way through the ruin she had decided to explore, she held her crossbow in front of her warily, she had heard of stories about the machines the Dwemer had created and how they still defended the ruins to this day.

She rounded the corner and saw a Dwemer spider wandering the long hall in front of her, she smirked and raised her crossbow to eye level, loosing a bolt at the spider.

The bolt shattered a small red crystal housed on top of the spider’s body. The metal spider collapsed to the ground and exploded into sparks.

Juno let out a satisfied “hm” and carried on deeper into the ruin. From what she had heard, the spiders were the least of her worries, she had heard stories about the fast attacks of the spheres and the towering might of the centurions, and she told herself if it ever came to that then she’d go back.

She had also heard stories of traps and she wondered how exactly anyone could live here if they trapped their own homes.

The Dwemer confused her. It wasn’t exactly like she could ask one what the hell they were thinking, and that lead to the last story she had heard. The Falmer.

Snow Elves that had been twisted into husks of their former selves from years of mistreatment by the Dwemer, a once proud race permanently scorned. It made her shudder. She would like to meet a Snow Elf too, less to criticize and more just to learn what they were like. She knew Snow Elves were once the dominant race in Skyrim, before the Nords, yet none of their society remained, not like the ancient Nords or the Dwemer. She thought it was a shame.

She ascended up a staircase, crossbow at the ready and as she reached the top of the stairs her foot landed right onto a pressure plate.

“Shit.” She muttered, stepping off it in the small hope that she hadn’t stepped on it hard enough to trigger anything.

Her hope was short lived. Her surroundings began to rumble and suddenly, accompanied by an ear splitting exposing, a huge tide of fire rushed down the hallway before her.

“Oh… fuck.” She managed to say before the force of the explosion sent her flying alongside hazardous shrapnel, she felt her grip on her crossbow slip and it was flung from her grasp. She felt the heat from the explosion on her face and sharp, unbearable pain across the left side of her body, she felt it the worse her arm and leg, but only briefly, as she blacked out as she hit the ground at the bottom of the stairs.

—

Kharjo accompanied Zaynabi into the Dwemer ruin they had stopped by in an attempt to find wares to sell. Zaynabi had insisted that Dwemer artifacts sold well so the caravan had made a stop to see what they could find.

While Dro'marash stayed outside with Ahkari the other two Khajiit delved into the hazardous ruin. Even in his heavy plate armour Kharjo knew to tread lightly. Adventurous often met their ends in the perilous ruins, and he was determined to not be one of them.

“What exactly are we looking for, Zaynabi?” Kharjo asked.

“Dwemer metal ingots, fetch a nice price with the blacksmiths. Valuable gemstones and soul gems, and many other things that collectors will indulge in.” Zaynabi followed Kharjo, while her guard was armed with a mace and shield and in steel plate she had but an iron dagger to defend herself with, neither was she properly armoured, but a Dwemer ruin provided lucrative opportunities for profit, and she could not resist.

Kharjo crouched down next to a dead Dwemer spider and inspected it. “This spider was killed, by someone before us it seems.” He looked back at Zaynabi.

“We carry on regardless.” Zaynabi replied, walking past Kharjo.

Kharjo sighed heavily and followed her, and as they rounded the corner they stopped dead in their tracks.

A scorched stone staircase greeted them, the walls, floor and ceiling were similarly scorched black, and at the bottom lay a Bosmer girl, in a pool of her own blood.

Her left arm had been severed and was laying burnt and blackened a short distance away from her, the lower section of her left leg was also missing and nowhere to be seen.

Zaynabi clasped her hands over her mouth. “By the twin moons… That’s awful!”

Kharjo rushed the the girl’s side and checked her over. “She’s still alive! Just.”

Her face was covered in blood and deep gashes and she was out cold.

“We should get her back to Ahkari! Maybe she can help!” Zaynabi leaned over Kharjo.

“There’s no time.” Kharjo looked around frantically. “We have to stop her bleeding.” His gaze came to rest on the Dwemer pipes, he reached out to one and he could feel the heat radiating off of it.

“Kharjo…” Zaynabi knew what he was thinking.

“Moons, please do not let her wake up.” Kharjo prayed. He gently took the Bosmer’s leg and pressed the stump to the pipe.

Her flesh and blood sizzled but she remained unconscious. After a few seconds Kharjo took her leg away and her wound was sealed. Kharjo was sure that if she had been conscious she would’ve passed out from the pain.

He pressed on and did the same to her arm, sealing both wounds and stopping the worst of her bleeding.

Kharjo hauled the Bosmer over his shoulder and stood up. “Come on, Zaynabi. We have to get her back go Ahkari.”

Zaynabi nodded and the two quickly left the ruin, and Kharjo silently prayed that they could save this poor girl’s life.


	2. Chapter 2

Juno’s head swam in darkness. She felt awful, absolutely horrendous. Nauseous, famished and her throat was parched.

She managed to peel open her eyes, groaning slightly as she moved her head. She was staring up at the fabric of a caravan roof, but that couldn’t be right, the last thing she remembered was a Dwemer ruin.

As her senses came back to her she turned her head to one side to see a male Khajiit sitting next to her, he seemed to be asleep, his arms crossed across his chest and his head slumped downwards, his whiskers twitching with every snore.

Juno tried to move, but the blanket covering her felt like it weighed more than a boulder. She slumped her head back against her pillow and started to reason with herself.

She couldn’t have been kidnapped, they were treating her well, had this Khajiit found her and taken care of her? Juno reasoned that she had been found by a caravan, but there was only one way to be sure.

“E-excuse me?” She choked out. Gods I sound awful… she thought to herself. Her voice was weak and scratchy, and scarcely above a hoarse whisper.

The Khajiit must be a light sleeper though, because it was enough to stir him. “Wha…who..?” He rubbed his eyes and looked down at Juno.

“By the twin moons!” He exclaimed, making Juno wince as her head throbbed.

The Khajiit quickly announced her awakening to the rest of his caravan and they stopped. A black-furred female Khajiit in fine clothes climbed into the back of the caravan Juno was in.

“Greetings, cub. This one is glad to see you are awake.” She smiled.

“Who are you?” Juno asked.

“This one’s name is Ahkari.” Ahkari placed her hand on her chest.

“This one is Kharjo.” The Khajiit who she had woken up next to introduced.

“Where am I?” Juno struggled to sit up and Ahkari supported her.

“We are travelling through the Rift right now.” Ahkari told her.

Good, the Rift, close to home.

Juno sat up a little father. “Gods I cant feel my left arm… or leg.”

Ahkari and Kharjo exhanched a worried glance. “Young cub-” Ahkari began, but Juno had already pulled her left arm out from under the blanket, or what was left of it.

Juno’s eyes widened with shock and horror as she stared at the stump. “Wha.. but.. but…” She started to hyperventilate as panic set in.

“Young cub.” Ahkari held Juno’s right hand tightly, cupping her cheek and forcing Juno to look away from her missing left arm.

“M-my leg?” Juno managed to whimper.

“I’m sorry young one.” Ahkari drew Juno into a comforting hug. “When we found you were gravely injured. If Kharjo had not acted to quickly we may have never saved you.” Ahkari ran her hand down the Bosmer’s back. “You’ve been unconscious for 3 days, but I am ever so pleased to see you wake up.”

Juno sniffled into her shoulder, her mind racing through all the things she would never do again. Ahkari seemed to know this and brushed Juno’s hair away from her face. “Come now cub, you are alive, are you not?”

Juno nodded. “Y-yeah…”

“You are strong.” Kharjo put a hand on her shoulder. “You came back from such terrible injuries, you can overcome this.”

Tears welled up in Juno’s eyes again, she was too overcome by a mixture of emotions to even speak, she just hugged the two Khajiit tightly, silently crying into Ahkari’s shoulder.

—

Juno had fallen into an uneasy sleep in the back of the caravan. She hadn’t let go of Kharjo since she had first hugged him and he resigned himself to hold the Bosmer while she slept.

“We never asked her for her name.” Kharjo whispered up to Ahkari.

“We can do that when she next wakes up.” Ahkari replied. “Then we can figure out where her home is and take her there.”

Kharjo gently ran his hand down Juno’s back as she fidgeted and trembled in his hold. “Poor girl…” Kharjo sighed.

“It is a shame we cannot do more for her.” Ahkari sighed, going back to focusing on the road.

Kharjo felt his own eyes start to droop. It was late and the twin moons were high in the sky, watching over their worshippers even this far from their desert home.

Offering a silent prayer to his guardians Kharjo closed his eyes.

“Kharjo?” A small voice roused him awake.

He looked down to see Juno staring back at him, her big orange eyes were dull and lacking energy.

“What is it little one?” Kharjo asked.

“Juno.. my name is Juno.” She murmered.

“Juno.” He corrected. “What is it, Juno?”

“Thank you.” She pressed herself closer to him.

Kharjo tilted his head and smiled. “Do not thank me, Juno, I simply did what was right.”

“How close are we to Riften? I live there.” Juno asked, looking out the back of the caravan up at the moons.

“No more than a couple days away.” Kharjo told her. “We stop outside the city to do business.”

Juno nodded and closed her eyes again, leaning into Kharjo.


	3. Chapter 3

Kharjo helped Juno out of the back of the caravan. He carried her bridal style to the gates to Riften.

“They won’t let any Khajiit in.” Kharjo told her.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” Juno told him.

Sure enough, the guards barred Kharjo from entering. “Get lost, cat.” The words were practically spat at the poor Khajiit.

“Your plan?” Kharjo asked.

Juno raised her head and glared at the guard. “You dumb fucking bastard, get me Brynjolf now before I wring your fucking neck!”

The guard flinched and seemed to recognize who he was speaking to. He disappeared into Riften, no doubt to fetch Brynjolf.

“The cub has claws.” Kharjo commented.

“You learn.”

Juno thought back to the rest of her return home. How Brynjolf had looked at her when he saw her, her solemn goodbye to her saviours, and how Brynjolf had carried her from the gates all the way to the cistern.

And that was where she had stayed, for a week now. Unable to leave the Guild headquarters or even move without assistance.

She felt humiliated by having to ask for help the for the simplest things, and though most of the Guild bid her a smile and told her it was no problem she couldn’t help but feel like one.

Sometimes she’d just forget she was missing her arm and reach out to grab something with her left hand. She couldn’t help it, if felt like it was still there, it hurt like it was still there. She kept waking up in agony, feeling pain in limbs that weren’t even there anymore, pain that she worked through silently and alone each night. She felt miserable.

Her mood wasn’t helped by Mercer Frey either. She had overheard him talking about how she was a waste of space and dumping her on the streets of Riften.

His suggestions were met by Spikes’ wrath. Her adoptive brother had threatened to gut Mercer if he ever even tried, and knowing Spikes, he would carry out that threat. Juno felt bad about her predicament, but Spikes was trying to coax her into a positive mindset, she was lucky to have him, and she put on a smile for him every time he came to check up on her, but it never lasted.

Juno ached to get out and explore. She bad Brynjolf or Spikes carry her into the Ragged Flagon just so she could get a change of scenery. The pity party she got in the Flagon didn’t help her mood. She didn’t want sympathy, yet everyone seemed to be giving her it in copious amounts.

And as the months pass the pity party ended, and Juno could tell everyone was getting sick of her. It wouldn’t be long before Mercer through her out, just he had promised.

She rubbed what remained of her left arm. She reasoned that she would do well as a beggar, a 17 year old girl missing an arm and leg, that just screams “give me all your Septims!” Juno suddenly thought that if she could collect enough Septims from the townspeople she could do it for the Guild and Mercer might let her stay, it was a desperate idea, but she was desperate to stay.

“Lass.”

Juno looked up at Brynjolf, he was holding a decently sized box in his hands.

“Whats that? For my worldly possessions before you throw me out?” She asked.

Brynjolf shook his head. “We aren’t going to throw you out lass, we take care of our own.”

“Tell him that.” Juno muttered, looking across the cistern at Mercer.

Brynjolf sat on her bed and placed the box in front of her. “Open it.” He told her.

“What is this?” Juno asked.

“A gift, now open the damned box.” Brynjolf replied.

Juno shrugged and did as she was told, and her breath hitched in her throat.

She looked back up at Brynjolf with wide eyes and he smiled and nodded.

Juno gently took the prosthetic arm out the box and sat it down in her lap. “Can I.. can I put it on?” She asked.

“Its your arm, Juno.” Brynjolf ruffled her hair.

Juno slipped her stump into the prosthetic, the inside was cushioned and felt soft against her skin, like it was lined with cushions and silk.

Juno gripped the wrist of her prosthetic and imagined moving the prosthetic like it was her old arm, and to her amazement, it did move.

Juno stared down at her arm and she flexed each finger, then clasped her hand into a knuckle and rolled her wrist, it was just like the real thing.

“It’s enchanted. It’ll move just like it was your real arm.” Brynjolf explained.

Juno stretched her arm out in front of her. “Where did you get this?” She breathed. The prosthetic seemed expertly made of ebony, yet it felt so light.

“The Summerset Isle. I have a contact there. It was a little different from his usual work, but anyone will do anything for enough coin.” Brynjolf smiled.

“Is it ebony?” She asked.

Brynjolf nodded. “Durable stuff, should last you till the day you die.”

“But it’s so… light!” Juno exclaimed, picking up an empty tankard next to her bed.

“A special kind of ebony, forged to be lighter, at least that’s what he told me.” Brynjolf shrugged. “You haven’t even gotten to the other gift.”

Juno quickly set the tankard down and looked back into the box, in the felt lining laid a prosthetic leg.

Juno felt like she would faint, she took the leg out the box and slipped it on.

Brynjolf helped her stand, and although wobbly she managed to stand up straight.

Tears of happiness ran down Juno’s face as she hugged Brynjolf, thanking him a thousand times over. Brynjolf smiled and hugged her back.

“We’ll get you back on your feet soon enough, lass.”


End file.
